


When Terry Walked In (Mickey's POV)

by 09cityskylights



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Brutality, Gallavich, M/M, Sad Mickey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-17 23:13:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10604268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/09cityskylights/pseuds/09cityskylights
Summary: Based around the rape scene, such a hard scene to watch...Written from Mickey's point of view. His thoughts in the moment, and afterwards in chapter 2.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The song that played at the end of this scene, and helped to inspire this chapter is Power to Progess- Darren and Stephen Loveday

It’s funny how everything can change in just an instant. If one little thing happened differently, we wouldn’t be exactly what we are now. Where we are now. 

When Mickey’s dad came home unexpectedly that day and walked in on him and Ian having sex on the couch, his face turned red with shock and then purple with rage. Mickey knew in that moment, things would never be the same for him. That thought flashed for just a moment before his saw his Dad come barreling towards Ian and start beating on him. Mickey didn’t hesitate for a second, he saw red and came flying from around the couch, then leapt onto his father’s back. 

“GET OFF OF HIM” he screamed, sinking his nails into his dad’s neck, anything to desperately pull him off of Ian. His act accomplished what he wanted, his dad turned his bull like rage off of Ian and onto his son once Mickey pulled him off and the two fell backwards onto the couch. Fists, heavy like iron, came down onto his face and he felt his skin splitting from the impact. His skull was hit so hard he felt dazed. 

Mickey struggled to get out from under his father’s weight but couldn’t, and the angle he was pinned at weakened his punches aimed upwards in defense. Over and over he was hit and it seemed to last forever, when suddenly through his swelling eye he saw Ian darting past them and towards the door. For a second Mickey wondered if Ian was abandoning him. At least Ian would be safe. His dad would kill him if Ian wasn’t there as a witness, but Terry turned and saw the escape attempt. He pulled a gun from nowhere and aimed it on Ian, forcing him back into the living room and away from the front door. Away from freedom. 

The sight of the gun aimed at Ian from behind his father’s rage terrified Mickey and he reached up desperately with the last of his strength to distract his dad from Ian. It worked. The gun turned away from Ian and came crashing down onto Mickey’s skull and it felt like fire, everything went black. 

Mickey didn’t hear his father’s phone call, but came to a short while later to see a bloody Ian watching him through confused and scared eyes, and a Russian hooker moving towards him. Her face was serious, hooded with heavy makeup. He almost felt a sick laugh escape from his lips when he realized what his father’s plan was. So typical of Terry, such a fucking idiot.

“She’s gonna fuck the faggot out of you kid” his dad said, patting his shoulder like he was doing Mickey a favor. Like wanting to be with Ian was an illness. The hooker climbed on top of Mickey, but he barely noticed the naked body in front of him because all he could think about was Ian, sitting there bleeding. His body ached and her movements on top of him were agony, and it took a while before the physical sensation made him hard enough for her to actually start fucking him. 

He stole glances at Ian from the corner of his blackened eyes to make it happen faster. He just wanted this nightmare to be over. Shame and pain was flooding through his entire body, not just from the beating either. His heart felt heavier than he ever remembered it feeling before. While she rode him he watched Ian and when he saw the pain come into Ian’s eyes, how he could barely stand to look at them, Mickey bit his lip. He couldn’t let tears come to his eyes, his father would actually kill them then. There was nothing left to do. He flipped the girl over so he didn’t have to look at Ian anymore.


	2. The Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short continuation.

After the hooker was done with Mickey, she climbed off of him and began to pull back on her tight dress. Terry was no longer saying anything, just drinking a beer a few feet away. He didn’t protest when Ian slowly picked up his own clothes and put them back on. Mickey sat on the couch, absolutely and brutally beaten and exhausted. He watched a drop of blood roll down from Ian’s chest and hit the floor. 

Mickey wanted so badly to say something, anything, to Ian. He didn’t want him to go. But he watched Ian walk out the door without looking back, his mouth drawn into a line. The girl disappeared with Terry into his room. Mickey didn’t move from the couch for hours. His body felt so broken. He felt the blood eventually stop running from various places on his face and start to dry and harden. Finally, he stood up, his entire body screaming in pain from the effort. 

He looked at the place on the carpet where Ian’s blood was now stained. Fought the urge to vomit. He started to walk towards his room and passed his dad on the way, an unspoken agreement now between them, and nothing else but dislike and disappointment radiating from Terry towards him. 

Mickey padded through his bedroom and into the bathroom attached to it, cranked the squeaky dial to hot in the shower. Climbed in. Stood there for a very long time, watching the water run red at his feet. Feeling the temperature of the water burn his pale skin, turning it red. And the tears finally came the only place it was safe for them to. For being caught. For being scared. For Ian, being hurt. For Ian leaving. And even…fuck it, even for Terry hating his guts. All Mickey wanted from the time he was a little boy was for his father to be proud of him, and now he knew he would honestly prefer it if Mickey was dead. And it hurt, it all fucking hurt. But the absolute worst thing was knowing that he and Ian could never be together. 

Mickey didn’t leave his room for two days. He barely left his bed. It wasn’t really from the pain of his wounds, Mickey was used to living through physical pain. But the ache inside him felt like it was threatening to swallow him whole. He checked his phone every few hours that first day or so, waiting. For a phone call or a text from Ian, asking if he was okay. It never came. Ian’s first message was a couple days later, with a simple “Hey, let’s hang later. Text me”. 

Mickey squeezed the bridge of his nose with two fingers. He read and reread the message, but there was nothing he could say. He felt like something had been ripped from him, and stolen. Violated. The feeling of closeness to Ian just wasn’t there. He deleted the message from Ian and left his room quietly, went to the kitchen to get some food.  
Mandy was sitting at the kitchen table, and she cocked her eyebrow at him, “Jesus Mick what happened?” He thought about what it would be like if he could tell her everything, wondered what she would say. “Dad”, he muttered simply. She nodded, “no wonder he’s been so angry the past couple days, you must have pissed him off good”. Mickey didn’t say anything, just looked at the ground and slowly chewed a very dry sandwich he threw together. It felt like glue in his mouth, and he could barely swallow.  
“Got any whiskey?” he finally asked, monotone. “Uh no, vodka. But you aren’t getting it for free butthead”. He pulled his wallet out of his pocket and waved it at her, pursing his lips. “Oh alright”, she disappeared down the hallway and came back a moment later with a mostly full 750ml bottle. He yanked it from her hands and dropped a twenty-dollar bill on the floor before heading back to his room.

Sitting on his bed, he unscrewed the cap of the bottle and put it up to his lips without a pause. He swallowed mouthful after mouthful, feeling the warm burn travel down his mouth and throat to his stomach. His brain started to quiet, and so did his aching body.


End file.
